


Binding

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bittersweet, Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Hopeful Ending, M/M, Other, Pre-Canon, Stops at the Flood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: To ensure that Hell keeps to the intended timing of Armageddon, Heaven proposes an alliance through the binding of an angel and a demon.It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	Binding

**Author's Note:**

> Weird little thing I've had in mind for several months and just ended up writing over the last two days. It's not perfect, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (Also, sorry if I owe you a comment - I have been reading them and will reply asap!)
> 
> EDIT: Also also, I'm not sure if this is finished or not, I might very well add a second chapter to tie it up properly... What do you think?

“I don’t like it,” Michael admitted, the moment she’d kicked the last angel from the Heavens. “This Great Plan of Yours-”

“You don’t like the plan?” God asked, deceptively mild, and Michael dropped smoothly to her knees.

“The Great Plan is perfect; I never meant to imply-”

“Then what don’t you like?” God pressed, and Gabriel leant in to hear Michael’s answer.

“I don’t trust Hell to keep to the timing. Once they’ve licked their wounds a bit, I’m afraid there’ll be nothing to stop them trying to destroy the Garden and everything in it.”

_ “I _ will stop them, if necessary,” God countered, and then, “What did you have in mind?”

“Insurance. A binding to serve as a treaty. One of ours with one of theirs.”

“A marriage alliance? I hadn’t intended to invent those for a while. But do as you will. I have things to create.”

When God’s presence had ebbed from the room, Michael turned to Gabriel.

“You had more contact with the rank and file angels than I did, during the War. Who can we afford to lose if it comes to it?”

“Well, there was one angel who was reprimanded for hanging back - hiding near the Celestial Library. A Principality. He didn’t see much action, doubt he’s much of a fighter.”

“Excellent. We’ll saddle Hell with our lame duck, and with a bit of luck he can feed us information every now and then. What’s his name?”

“Aziraphale. His name’s Aziraphale.”

* * *

Beelzebub stamped the last of the flames out of Dagon’s wings and reported to Satan for orders.

“Ah, my Lord of Flies.” They weren’t sure what flies were yet, but Satan had managed to get a peek at God’s To-Do list before the Fall and had assigned jobs more or less at random. Beelzebub and Dagon had been assigned posts close to one another alphabetically, which hopefully meant they’d get to work together in the future. “We’ve had a very interesting message from Heaven.”

“They can buzzz off,” Beelzebub snapped, and Satan smiled.

“Yes, that’s the spirit. But, on this occasion, I believe they are presenting a vulnerability, and we would be foolish to ignore the opportunity.”

“What opportunity, my Lord?”

“They want to bind one of  _ us  _ \- demons, that is, not you or I - to one of  _ them. _ I believe they intend it to be a sort of peace treaty until the End Times.”

“Ha! And they think we’ll give them peace?”

“Only if they’re a great deal more foolish than they seem,” Satan mused. “I’m not sure what they expect to come of it. But they  _ do  _ have the advantage of numbers, and their troops haven’t just bathed in lava. A temporary ceasefire isn’t the worst idea.”

“And then?”

“Oh, then we’ll break our word, of course. But I don’t think they’ll break theirs first. So, all that remains is to choose a demon to be bound.”

“Do you have someone in mind, my Lord?”  _ Not Dagon, _ Beelzebub hoped with all their heart.

“It doesn’t matter in the slightest. Scrape someone out of the Pit.”

* * *

It was the morning of the third day when the small group assembled on Earth, the only neutral ground available in the entire universe. Michael, Gabriel and Aziraphale stood on what God had described as ‘dry land’, although in fact it was still a little damp from being hauled up out of the newly-created sea. Aziraphale was holding very tight to his new sword, which God Herself had given him just before he left Heaven.

“You are nervous,” God had commented, making him jump - God was everywhere, of course, but he hadn’t realised She was  _ there _ . “Why?”

“Well, it seems rather an important job to get right. And- and demons, they can’t be trusted, and I’m to be  _ bound  _ to one for  _ eternity _ -”

“You are afraid of the demon,” God had deduced, and Aziraphale had hung his head in shame. “That is wise. Here; a wedding gift. Now you can protect yourself.” And She had given him the sword, a flaming sword that seemed deadlier than any weapon he'd ever held or even seen. “Happy?”

“Thank you,” he’d said, by way of answer, and She had moved away.

Now, as he clung to the sword, Aziraphale could see the infernal deputation approaching. It was hard to tell if they were walking towards them or simply rising out of the earth, perspective being rather a new concept to get to grips with, but either way they were soon stood opposite the celestial group.

“Let’zz get on with it, then,” the apparent leader said, before anyone else could speak, and Aziraphale felt his knees go weak with terror.

“Er- if I may- who-?”

There were three of them; two stood upright - though in the case of the buzzing one, that afforded them no great height - and a third slouched between them. At Aziraphale’s question, the other two let him go and shoved him forward, only for the slouching demon to stumble and almost fall. Aziraphale reached out instinctively to steady him, and Gabriel barked a laugh.

“Eager to do your duty, I see, Aziraphale, but  _ put the demon down. _ ”

It was at that moment that Aziraphale realised he was holding up a  _ demon; _ he waited just long enough to be sure the wretched creature had his balance, and then backed up to where his sword was stuck, wreathed in holy flame, in the sand.

“Right. I hereby propose a cessation of hostilities in the form of combat between Heaven and Hell, and a treaty of non-instigation of Armageddon for a period of six thousand years. In order to seal the contract, we present the Principality Aziraphale to be bound to…” Gabriel trailed off expectantly, and the two steadier demons exchanged looks.

“The demon… Crawley,” the fish-scaled one offered, and the other two both turned to look at her. “I’ll sort the paperwork out later,” she muttered, with a vague gesture at the one who’d stumbled.

“Right. The Principality Aziraphale will be bound to the demon Crawley, and vice versa, for as long as this treaty shall hold.” Gabriel smiled. “Well, go on, merge your essences so we can get back to Heaven.”

Aziraphale was certain he’d turned just as pale as the demon Crawley, but the buzzing demon stepped forward.

“That won’t be necessary. They could just touch corporations, that would suit our purposes.”

“Well, I don’t want to spend any more time here than I have to.” Gabriel shrugged. “Touch its hand, then, Aziraphale, and we’ll be on our way.”

Aziraphale reached out, cursing his own hand for shaking, and Crawley touched it with his own. A strange, bright light - somehow nothing like Heaven’s, a light that seemed to hold shadow inside itself - enveloped them both, and for a moment it was as if there was nobody else on Earth.

Then reality reasserted itself, and Gabriel made an impatient noise.

“Well, that’ll do it. Where are they going?”

“We’re not taking the angel,” the buzzing demon said hurriedly, and Michael scoffed.

“Well, the demon’s not coming back to Heaven.”

“They’ll live separately, then,” the buzzing demon snapped, “come along,  _ Crawley.” _ For some reason, they seemed to find the name amusing. Aziraphale caught a glimpse of wide, golden eyes drinking him in before the three representatives of Hell vanished, and Gabriel clapped his hands together.

“Well, I think that went quite well. Didn’t even need that sword in the end, did you, Aziraphale?”

And with that, they all returned to Heaven.

* * *

The demon Crawley - as he had been so swiftly named on the damp soil of Earth - had to fill in quite a lot of paperwork before he was allowed to go about his business in Hell. At first, he thought it was the mind-numbing boredom of filling in the forms that was causing his essence to feel as though it was being tugged upwards, but even when he’d finished, the feeling didn’t fade.

“Oh, that’zz probably the binding,” Beelzebub told him when he asked them about it, “are you going to make a fuzz about it for the rezzt of eternity?”

“No, I- it’s just- it doesn’t feel right-”

“We’re demonzz, we’re not supposed to feel right.” Beelzebub thought about it for a moment, then sighed. “I’ll see if I can get you reassigned somewhere. I don’t want to listen to you moping about it.”

It wasn’t long, in the grand scheme of Hell’s shambling bureaucracy, before Crawley was called before Satan himself.

“I’m sending you to Earth,” he told him, “get up there and make some trouble.”

* * *

“You’ve been assigned to Earth,” Gabriel told Aziraphale, “officially to guard the Eastern Gate of Eden.”

“Oh, gosh.” Aziraphale stood a little straighter. “That  _ is  _ an honour- and, er, unofficially, if I may ask-?”

“Putting you on Earth is a clear invitation to Hell to send your demon up. If they intend to honour the bond, he should come to you. If they don’t, well, that’s a sign that they’re not taking it seriously, and the whole thing’s off.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale responded, feeling a little sick. He’d been feeling a little sick since the binding, if he was honest, as if something was weighing on him, dragging him down. “And then… war?”

“And then war,” Gabriel told him cheerily. “That’s the spirit. Off you go!”

That’s how Aziraphale found himself standing on one of the walls of Eden, clutching his flaming sword and hoping the demon - Crawley - turned up, but also that Crawley didn’t  _ eat  _ him when he did. He had been there for some time, looking for signs of an infernal being’s approach -  _ please come, please let the truce hold, please don’t hurt me when you do -  _ when God’s voice rang out across the Garden.

“I gave you  _ one rule.  _ Now, be gone from this place!” And as Aziraphale watched, the two humans he’d become used to seeing around came running towards his gate, and he hurried down to open it for them. They looked terrified, and rightly so, for outside the Garden, Aziraphale had seen many different creatures with enormous, sharp teeth roaming about. Perhaps he wasn’t the one most in danger of being eaten today, after all. And Eve was already growing big with child…

“Here you go. Flaming sword. Don’t thank me, and don’t let the sun go down on you here.”

When they’d gone, and he’d returned to the wall, he found himself staring out across the sand, hoping he’d done the right thing. Should he have done more? Perhaps he shouldn’t have interfered at all. Lost in thought, he hardly noticed the large snake slithering up behind him until it abruptly turned into-

“Crawley!” He tried to suppress the instinctive terror that gripped him; Crawley could become a  _ snake?  _ He could swallow Aziraphale whole, if he chose, and yet- and yet he hadn’t. He was approaching him in a similar form to Aziraphale’s own. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Oh. Yeah. I was, er,” he waved in the general direction of the forbidden tree, and Aziraphale realised, with a sinking sensation, that there had been talk of a  _ serpent _ tempting Eve. “That went down like a lead balloon. And… didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

“Uh,” Aziraphale said, because he’d just realised that he didn’t feel that awful weight pulling him downwards any more.

“You  _ did, _ it was flaming like anything. What happened to it?”

“Uh…” Was he allowed to share information with the demon he was bonded to? Aziraphale didn’t know.

“Lost it already, have you?” And that rankled; he was  _ bound  _ to this demon, and he still thought Aziraphale was incompetent.

“Gave it away,” he corrected under his breath, and the demon seemed to light up.

“You  _ what?” _

“I gave it away!”

The demon regarded him thoughtfully, for a moment, then stuck out his hand.

“Crawley. It’s about time we met properly.”

“Oh. Oh, well… Aziraphale. But you knew that.”

“Yeah.” They shook hands, but Crawley didn’t let go. “Listen, have you been feeling weird? Like… like you’re being pulled towards something?”

“Yes! Yes, all the time, until- until just now.” Aziraphale frowned. “Is that your doing?”

“No. Yes? Not on purpose. I don’t think… I don’t think this bonding thing worked quite the way our bosses hoped. It’s gone wrong, somehow.”

“My boss, as you put it, is omnipotent and infallible,” Aziraphale pointed out, but Crawley shook his head.

“Not that boss. The other angels, the other demons. They said- well, they said a handshake would do it, but they can’t have meant for us to feel like  _ this. _ It’s as if I’m being pulled towards you, I can’t get anything done.”

“Glad I could thwart you,” Aziraphale told him feebly, because he was beginning to think Crawley was right. Surely God Herself hadn’t intended him to be so distracted?

“It can’t be helping you, either. So how do we fix it?”

Crawley was looking at him with such an earnest expression, so much hope in those glorious golden eyes, that for a moment Aziraphale forgot he was a demon. He forgot that he, himself, was an angel.

“Perhaps we just need to touch…  _ more.” _

* * *

Crawley wasn’t sure what he’d expected the angel to say, but he’d hoped that Heaven would have some idea of how to solve the problem of their botched binding. It couldn’t be  _ meant  _ to drag them towards each other at all times, could it? If it was, surely Heaven or Hell would have suggested they stick together.

“Perhaps we just need to touch…  _ more,”  _ Aziraphale said, and Crawley’s cheeks burned at the implication.

“More? More how?”

“Well, I don’t- just…” And the angel held out his arms. Crawley could just step into his embrace and… well. It wasn’t as if that didn’t sound inviting. It sounded wonderful, actually. Crawley  _ wanted  _ to be close to this angel, this guardian who’d given away his only weapon. But demons didn’t hug. They certainly didn’t hug  _ angels, _ even if it was his best chance of curing the strange pull of his enemy. The enemy he was bonded to. Oh, it was a mess. “Demons don’t hug.”

“Ah. Right. Well.” Aziraphale glanced away, towards the garden, and for a moment he turned a little pink. “That’s that, then. I suppose we’re stuck.”

“What was that?” Crawley turned to look into the garden, too, but he couldn’t see anything that would embarrass an angel. “You blushed-”

“Well, angels aren’t supposed to hug demons, either. But you- you could tempt me. If that would make it better. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“Oh. Well. Yes, I suppose so. Wouldn’t you get in trouble?”

“You’re Hell’s best tempter. I’m sure I can be forgiven, just this once.”

Crawley wasn’t sure about that, but he wanted to be held, even if it meant Aziraphale would be free of the tug at his heart that currently kept him tied to Crawley. He  _ wanted  _ Aziraphale to be free, he just didn’t want to never see him again.

“All right,” he conceded with a sigh, and held his arms out. Aziraphale didn’t hesitate, just walked right into his embrace and wrapped his arms around him, his chin just resting on Crawley’s shoulder. Crawley wrapped his arms around the angel in return, and then there they were. Together.

Crawley’s heart fluttered like one of the butterflies he’d chased in the garden, and he wondered if that was simply what it felt like to not be missing a part of himself, missing something that was now tied to him forever. Aziraphale pulled back a fraction, and Crawley thought it was over, but then Aziraphale was murmuring something, an inch from his lips.

“The humans… they did something called a kiss, I wonder…?”

“Yes,” Crawley breathed, because he would have done anything Aziraphale asked at that moment. And then Aziraphale’s lips covered his, just for a moment, and Crawley wanted to stop time itself so they could stay there forever. 

But Aziraphale was already stepping back.

“Terribly sorry. I shouldn’t have- I was just-”

“Ngk.”

“Not that it wasn’t very nice, but we should probably have talked about it first-”

“‘S fine,” Crawley mumbled, and they stood together on the wall for a moment longer. A drop of water fell from the sky, then another, and Aziraphale stretched out a wing over Crawley’s head, shielding him from the very first rain.

“I should go,” Crawley admitted, when the rain died down, “meant to report back hours ago, really.”

“Oh. Oh, yes, I should… well, I should brick up this gate before dark. Don’t come back here, I don’t want you getting caught up in- er. Well. Just don’t.”

“All right, angel.” And Crawley slithered back down the wall and into the Earth.

Hell was teeming with demons, as usual, and Crawley had to fight against the current of milling bodies to get to Beelzebub’s office.

“Ah, Crawley,” Dagon greeted him with an unsettling sort of smile. “Good news, your little binding problem should be sorted out any minute.”

“My-?” Now that he thought about it, he could feel that tug at his heartstrings again, urging him upwards towards Aziraphale. Apparently, that wasn’t something a simple hug could solve. Perhaps they should have gone all out and merged their essences, or at least joined their corporations the way the humans had in the Garden. Still, Hell seemed to have found an answer; he hadn’t even realised they  _ cared _ . “Oh, that’s- how-?”

“Yeah, the binding only lasts until we break the non-hostility pact, and Hastur and Ligur are up there looking for an angel to wing anyway. So you’re off the hook.”

“Looking for-? Break the-?”

“Yeah, no more being bound to an angel. Go on through and make your report.” Dagon gestured towards Beelzebub’s office.

Crawley nodded weakly.

“Yeah, good, great, can’t wait for my angel-free existence.”

And he went in to make his report.

* * *

“Aziraphale! I thought you’d given your report to God directly.” Gabriel clapped his hands together and smiled at him. It was an empty sort of expression, nothing like Crawley’s bright enthusiasm.

“Well, yes, but I thought- that is- aren’t I coming back?”

“No, no, we need an agent on Earth for now. Is that a problem?”

“Oh. No, not at all. I’ll keep watch over the humans until they get themselves established, shall I?”

“Yeah, keep your distance and watch them. I’ll expect frequent reports, until we tell you to stop.”

“Of course. Oh, and that means we can keep an eye on my… the bonded demon, too. See if he keeps in touch, so we know if Hell’s-”

“I’m gonna stop you there, Aziraphale.” Gabriel held up a hand. “A pair of demons attacked Raphael in the dark part of the sky - he’s been looking at those bright things, the shiny ones-”

“Stars?”

“Whatever. There are a couple that appeared long after The Almighty had completed Creation. I’m afraid Raphael didn’t make it back.”

“Oh. Oh, how terrible. Still, that’s not- it can’t have been Crawley, he was with-”

“It doesn’t matter who it was. Hell’s broken the pact, and that means the binding is null and void. Congratulations.”

“Oh- oh, right, well- I mean, perhaps it was a misunderstanding-”

“It’s over, Aziraphale. Now, go on. Go and watch those humans, and enjoy never having to see a demon again.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale told him distantly, as he prepared to return to Earth. “Yes, I’ll enjoy that.”

* * *

Crawley spent several months, after the dissolution of his bond with Aziraphale, shuffling paperwork around in Hell. But, as it turned out, nobody else particularly enjoyed spending time on Earth, and anyone assigned there inevitably shoved the duty off onto whoever happened to be closest. Crawley made it his business to become closest, and sure enough, Hastur managed to hop out of the way of the assignment by passing it on to the Original Tempter. Perhaps he was expecting Crawley, too, to wriggle out of it. But Crawley merely sighed, as if accepting a terrible burden, and trudged up to Earth with a familiar fluttering in his heart.

It took him a long time to find Aziraphale, without the tug of the bond they’d made pulling him in the right direction, and on the way he discovered the many marvels of the Earth. He wanted to find Aziraphale and tell him that when they’d kissed, it had felt as though light was bubbling up inside him, and he’d had to launch it into space as he burrowed back down into Hell, so the other demons wouldn’t see. He wanted to tell Aziraphale that he’d hung their bond in the sky, and nobody could take that from them.

But when he finally caught up with Aziraphale, a man was building a boat in the middle of the desert, and apparently God was tetchy, and a whole lot of humans were about to die. Aziraphale extended a wing, unseen by mortal eyes, as the first drops began to fall, but Crawley ducked out from under it. He had work to do, he had people- he had  _ evil people  _ to save. Aziraphale nodded curtly.

“Yes, I’m sure you have lots to do. And I’d thwart you, of course, but I just need to pop back up and let Heaven know the rain has started on schedule.” For a moment, they both stood, bound together not by a hastily-assembled ceremony but by the shared knowledge that they weren’t doing what they should. Then Aziraphale shook out his wings, ready to take off, and Crawley grabbed his wrist.

“Wait. Before- I just wanted to say-” The stars didn’t seem relevant right now; all that mattered was that potentially, either one of them could be punished for what they were about to do, and Crawley couldn’t leave things unspoken. “I’m still yours, if you want me.”

“Oh, you fiend.” Aziraphale’s pulse raced beneath Crawley’s fingertips; he glanced around them before leaning in, very close. “Of course I do.”

Crawley moved a little closer, brushed his lips over Aziraphale’s for just a moment, feeling the angel’s breath catch on a little whimper of... well, Crawley hoped it was a positive emotion, whatever that little noise was supposed to express.

“Gotta go, angel.”

“Yes. Do take care.”

Then Aziraphale was gone, and Crawley had some lives to save.


End file.
